


Black Peacock

by flowersaretarts



Category: Gammaverse - Fandom
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Sex, feathers - Freeform, vurt - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 04:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4651854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersaretarts/pseuds/flowersaretarts





	Black Peacock

The dream is heavy like a thick veil frankincense-smoked brocade cover.   
Gamma's moaning was echoing against the claret ceiling and scattering down. The veins on his neck were ever so visible as he was dancing the painful fandango, held down by the Harrier's sleek body. The vicious tongue was licking at them, gnawing at the neck, smiling at the thought of how beautiful will the marks look tomorrow, when they will have woken up after the Game Night.

It felt like a dozen of snakes found their way into Gamma's body, but that was a part of the dream. The feather he was in was called "The Black Peacock", or so the Harrier said.   
"This is my gift to you, for being my good pet", hissed the Harrier pushing his penis deeper between his boy's scarred buttocks.  
The jar of honey was open. The long finger was smearing this sweet amber substance on Gamma's skin and wings ; he was rocking his hips, getting closer to crescendo, Gamma's tentacles were around him, softly gripping, getting loose and then tighter, like a breathe. 

Visions, visions. Scarlet snakes, slithering through black holes in the night sky, yellow danger flickering from every corner, fear rising, it hurts, it hurts, and Gamma begs for mercy and begs for more...  
When his cruel master stops. Gets off the bed and walks away, leaving his poor boy squirming and panting alone in the bed. The feather works, the serpentine of yellow ghosts drags Gamma's mind along. Honey fills the air, there is nothing left to breathe with, the whole world is sinking in sweetness and scorching pain.   
Yellow is for fear. Fear. Death. Gamma wasn't afraid of death, but these two feelings he could almost inhale, they were like parallel running roads, each leading into the yellow void, which even immortals might not return from. Golden death, liquid gold poured into each and every orifice...  
And then a sudden strike of the crop, stinging across his back, right between the wings.   
"I am going to take a flight, bat boy, and you will carry me everywhere I please"  
The Harrier is inside him again, ramming his stone hard cock into Gamma, making him scream.  
The tears turn into blood, honey is dripping off his wings, the fresh welts appear one after the other, filled with amber, which turns ruby, the  flows back into Gamma's wide open eyes.  
His tears aren't tears of pain, oh no.   
He cries because the bastard Harrier made him go into the feather alone,  
It is loneliness that is stronger than death, more painful than torture, being abandoned...  
Although his husband is there, Gamma cannot stop crying, for in the feather reactions slow down.  
The blood and the honey gold. Black silk, smell after smell, layers of suffocation, lonely, grinding aching...  
When suddenly he feels free of his bounds, he is picked up and carried into the infinity of what seemed to be the ceiling, but the heaven it is, the blackness filled with golden sparkles. Each star is an eye and bloody tears drop, drop, drop; the rain of burgundy and demonic litany.   
The two arms carry him, two arms of gold, the Harrier, the master, embrace of flame, holding his husband, his lover, his child, the crying mess, higher and higher, until there is a stop...  
Time and space freeze. No tick, no tock, not a move.  
And then a sudden drop, and the lovers fall into the yellow void... Falling, falling into the gaps of pink and red flesh, sweetness filling their lungs, black-winged roses scratching their skin.  
"Don't lose it, keep working the dream" whispers the serpent tongue  
And Gamma's wings spread open, he holds into his lover and keeps him from the abyss, The Harrier wraps his legs around his husband's waist, forcing himself onto Gamma's penis. Two bodies in the air, twirling and shaking, spinning in ecstasy. Blood and gold and darkness envelope them, their eyes turn yellow, full of fear of letting each other go. Gamma thrusts and it's his partner'a turn to pant and squirm, until both come, screaming into the void.

They return from the trip, coming down onto their bed. The empty jar, the broken crop. Red welts on Gamma's skin, kissed and caressed. The Harrier lies exhausted, falling asleep with his legs and arms around Gamma.   
The ceiling sheds pearly dew, the morning colours reign.  
The feather is falling from tired fingers, turning cream as it lands on the glass floor. 


End file.
